There weren’t a lot of benefits to being tiny, but Mason tried his best to look at the silver linings. For example, because he couldn’t realistically get a job, he got to stay home all day. There also were a ton of things he couldn’t do at his size either, so he was more prone to boredom than the average 19 year old. But he told himself that it was better to be home alone with a plethora of possible ways to spend his time, than to have to work all day at a job he didn’t like just to survive. Burdened by size, but unencumbered from responsibility.
Which meant he watched TV a lot, so much so that he didn’t even bother having a watch list on any streaming apps. Today he’d been binging the newest season of an offbeat comedy he liked on Hulu. His favorite spot to sit whenever he watched TV was in the center of the couch, because it made him feel like he sat on a massive throne, with endless plushiness all for him. But the giants of the house weren’t huge fans of a 3-inch boy sitting smack dab in the middle of a three seat sofa.
He heard the front door suddenly swing open, knowing that it would be Mikayla coming home from her shift. He hoped she wouldn’t interrupt him and take over the TV, but after hearing how big her sigh was after kicking off her shoes and tossing her keys on the table, he knew she’d be in the mood to just vedge for a while.
“Hey, I wanna watch my show,” she yawned, sauntering into the family room. It looked like the couch was empty, but she knew that just meant there was a little guy hidden somewhere on the cushions. As the walked around to the front of it, she saw her brother laying on the remote, using one of the thicker buttons to prop his head up. Normally he’d use his own miniature remote to control the TV, but it had accidentally gotten stepped on for the twentieth time after he left it out in the open. His mom had warned him, both joking and annoyed, that he was limited to one new remote a month; she didn’t want to waste her money on anything more. So he had to use the big one, the one that made him jump on the buttons every time he needed to press them. It was slow, and tedious. He hadn’t even bothered trying to use the search bar.
“I’m on the last episode, it’s the season finale,” he told her, hoping she’d at least let him finish.
“Welp, that means you’ve got to watch the last however many episodes for a few hours, so I get a turn now,” came Mikayla’s retort, leaning over to pick the remote up before he’d even hopped off.
“Wait, you need to lemme get off befoAAAGH!” She smirked as he lost his balance as soon as the device shot into the sky, and scrambled to dive off the side as fast as he could. It was a free fall to the cushion below, something he did on a regular basis and wasn’t very dangerous—as long as he landed right. He’d learned from cats to stretch his arms and legs out below him to absorb the impact. The adrenaline thrill of a free fall was another benefit to his size, since it was pretty fun as long as there was something properly set up below him to catch his fall (a loosely bundled-up blanket was best). Or sometimes one of his sisters would tie a rubber band around his waist so he could bungie jump off the kitchen table. But whenever his free falls were impromptu or accidental, the thrill evolved into fear for the split second he was in mid-air.
He landed safely on one of the end cushions as her own body crashed into the middle one, right where Mason had been sitting. Mikayla put her feet up on the coffee table and exited his show to go browse her own profile, provoking a fit of anger out of her brother since she hadn’t even apologized. With the adrenaline still coursing through his body, he ran towards her and began using the of her thigh as a punching bag. “Mom told you not to let me fall like that!” he yelled, pummeling her black jeans with his fists. Attacking her wasn’t about trying to hurt her though (how could it be at his size?), it was more the principle of it. Just like a real punching bag couldn’t be hurt, but is still a good way to get out your aggression, Mason was only using his sister as an outlet for his anger. She didn’t take too kindly to that though.
She raised an eyebrow and stopped browsing to look down at her side. Even if she couldn’t be hurt, but he was still acting like a nuisance. He saw her head turn to him in his upper peripheral vision, and the gigantic motion made him look up, immediately stopping as she stared down at him. He was filled with instant regret, which only doubled as he saw her grin mischievously and lean her body away from him. She lifted the leg he’d been punching so that her butt was pointed at him instead, and he turned to run.
Mikayla didn’t even bother trying to stop him, since she knew she wouldn’t need to. She squeezed out a fart, puffing a blast of noxious smells right into her brother’s path. Years of experience had made her able to aim with so much precision that she knew Mason would always be at the center of her smelly storm. He had heard the rumble behind him, and within a few seconds, the wave of his sister’s digestive miasma had caught up to him, swirling around him and enveloping him in an invisible cloud of her gas.
He still tried running away so he could reach somewhere with fresher air, but that was a much harder ask at his size. For regular people, a big enough fart can disseminate throughout a room. But for someone like Mason, every time a person passed gas, it had the potential to creep a hundred feet out in every direction. Finding fresher air was possible, but it took way more than merely side-stepping or leaning away from the offender.
He started coughing as the smell filled his lungs, which slowed him down since he had to pant for breath. But Mikayla only laughed. “If you’d just let me watch my show, after I’d been on my feet for 8 hours while you got to lounge around all day, then maybe I won’t get annoyed with you next time and do something like that.”
Mason didn’t respond, knowing she had a right to want to use the TV. He just sighed instead, and took a seat on the cushion to try and get into whatever it is his older sister wanted to watch.
Mikayla had ended up stretching herself out on the couch not long after, and let Reese sit on the back of her leg to keep watching her show. It was safer than somewhere on the couch, where she could easily roll over and squish him. But now he was hungry. Technically, he had his own mini-kitchen against one of the walls of his room, half stocked with normal food and half stocked with a bunch of micro-canned stuff in case of emergencies. But his pantry was never as plentiful as the big one, so he’d gotten used to eating almost all of his meals in the main kitchen anyways. So not only were his options sparse, but it hadn’t been restocked in a couple weeks and a lot of stuff had probably gone bad. And it was on all the way on the other side of their massive, annoyingly huge house.
“Hey, can you take me to the kitchen?” he asked Mikayla as he stood up, turning to look across her body in her direction. But it looked like she’d fallen asleep, evidenced by her nonresponse and steady breathing. He grumbled, but was too stubborn still to use his own kitchen, so he carefully made his way across her leg on her way to her face so he could wake her up.
After trudging up her hill of a butt, he paused, looking down at the tightly stretched denim that covered his sister’s ass. Everything was always bigger for him. Even if it was a butt that belonged to his older sister, even if it was responsible for farting in his face every now and then, it was still impossible to just ignore.
He couldn’t just gawk at her ass all day though, so he kept on moving, jogging across her back. But the ground he was standing on suddenly shook, and it rose up in one direction as she slowly moved in her sleep. Knowing that she might turn over and end up squashing him under her back, he quickly ran sideways up the ascending slope, jumping at the last second to barely land at the top, which was now on top of her arm, barely keeping his balance. But she was turning all the way over, and as her body fell backwards, he had to jump in the same direction, landing awkwardly on her collarbone. Its slight bump of a shape made him lose his footing though, and he tumbled forward, right in the center of her sternum. He glanced to the side, where the shadows of her shirt concealed her cleavage.
But Mason tripping onto Mikayla’s skin had given her a slight tickling sensation, making her wake up from the light slumber. She lifted her head a bit to see her brother crouching just above the hem of her shirt, looking back up at her with a relieved expression. “Hey, sorry for waking you, but I haven’t eaten in awhOOOAH!”
For the second time in under an hour, his sister’s movements had cut him off from even finishing his sentence, except this time she was sitting up instead of grabbing a remote. “Wait, Mikayla!” he yelled out frantically, as her torso got steeper and he struggled to maintain his footing. She chuckled at how helpless he looked, and the vibrations of her chest caused him to finally fall backwards into her shirt. His fall was broken as his back sunk into the crack formed by her boobs, pinning his arms helplessly to his sides.
Wanting to tease him just a bit more, she pressed her breasts together, forcing him to get completely engulfed by her tits, smothered by the squish. She rubbed them—and him—around for a few seconds, and then let them open back up, quelling his claustrophobia.
Her thumb and forefinger reached down, grabbing ahold of one of his feet, and she pulled him out from her shirt, raising him high up while he dangled deliriously upside down. “I haven’t eaten in awhile either you know,” she murmured, and then opened her mouth, tilting her head skyward and directing his body over her open throat.
“Wait no, Mikayla!” he shouted, wriggling desperately but helplessly as she lowered him into her mouth. His head went past her teeth, past her tongue, past the roof of her mouth. She only needed to insert two fingers into her mouth to keep ahold of him, and was able to stick them so far into her mouth, she could feel her brother’s frantic body tickling her uvula—and then get lowered even deeper. “PLEASE, STOP!” he cried out, actually scared now. He knew she’d never eat him, but just the idea that he could be swallowed alive by another human was something that gave him nightmares.
Mikayla could tell she’d gone far enough, so she pulled his body back out and lowered him to her shirt, using the end of the fabric to wipe some of her saliva off her brother’s clothes.
Then she lifted him back up and with her other hand, grabbed ahold of his hand diagonal to the foot she was holding, and lifted his body up so it was hanging sideways in front of her face. “Sorry,” she giggled, leaning forward to give him a quick kiss (which covered most of his body), and then dropped him into her palm. “Now let’s go get some real food.”